Denied Love
by Telepathica
Summary: No particular season. No spoilers. Mulder and Scully star in a fanfictionized motel room scene.


**I own no characters.**

Mulder's stare was setting fire to my body. His eyes; they had been burning with intensified lust and fiery need. He looked predatory in this state of passion. It was as if he would devour me in the sexual sense and dominate me to the point of pain. There I stood, not more than two feet before him. I was stilled, stuck in the battle stance used in our verbal quarrel just minutes ago. Though I swore I heard the lingering echo of our angry screams, I closed my mind to it. I wanted to open my mind. I wanted to open my mind to the possibility of him pounding me; hard. I needed to believe. Embarrassment had a dull, and then unnoticeable, effect when my breathing quickened. Our inflamed gaze met eye to eye and he could see that I wanted him, needed him. He licked his lips as if he were craving something delicious. This resulted in a hard thumping in my heart and a heavy throbbing in my panties. Breath in quick pants. Lust in our bodies. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable happened. My half-step forward was more than an invite to him. Our lips did not touch, meet, nor do anything gently romantic. His mouth hit mine at hyper speed. Mulder protruded his tongue between my lips in a crude manner that I'd only except from him. Our earlier fight was continuing with our mouths as pawns. His strong hands pulled my face against his as I clawed at the material of his dress shirt. There was no time to back-step my actions. There was no thought in my mind asking me to.

My back slammed the wall, but I felt no pain. Mulder was displaying animal behavior and I loved it. His actions expressed my own pent up tension and then some. Yes, he'd been rough with me, but I trust Mulder. Then, his tongue left my mouth, much to my inner protest, so that he could run it down my jaw. The wet trail led to where my neck meets my shoulder. He bit me there. It was not enough to draw blood, but to bring erotic hurt. I allowed myself to moan without shame. He jerked me around for my face to see the wall and my back to face him. He could have torn the zipper from my dress and I wouldn't have noticed nor cared. Instead, he yanked it down; freeing me and forcing the practical black garment to the floor. I stepped out of the circle it pooled in to leave it as forgotten as the conference I'd worn it to. Mulder then took me by the wrist and threw me to the bed. His less-than tender handling exited me. He did this out of primal instinct rather than disrespect. I stared at him in his standing position from my sitting one. My eyes; they were wild. I know this. And my hair; a mess from his before grabbing. He proceeded to rip his shirt off in a romance novel fashion. Though this is an action I would despise, in the heat of the moment his cliché was ignored. Mulder knocked me backward with his body before the last button hit the floor.

Hot. Too hot. Although my outfit had been reduced to bra and pantyhose, I was burnt. Steaming. I felt an unsurprising wetness between my thighs. Fueled my the obvious scent of my desire, he mauled me. Mulder attacked my mouth, neck, and chest with sucks, bites, and licks. His mouth was hot, but nothing compared to the extreme heat his body admitted. Quick thoughts of worry entered my brain. Classically, they were worries for Mulder. The strain of his stiff cock against his trousers; is that painful? He's grunting and sweating; what if he comes? Such thoughts were freed along with his erection by the sound of a zipper and the snapping of elastic. Mulder hurriedly kicked his pants and briefs to the floor to be nude excluding socks. The socks followed. I wanted to be lost of clothing's restraint and rub my naked form crudely against his. Grind with Mulder. Be drilled by Mulder. Mulder. And then I shouted his name in a pleading effort to beg for the removal of my final bindings. My nylons are literally ripped to shreds by his hungry hands. With my bra tossed and his throbbing cock more-than ready, he slammed into me. Yes, painful, but I never needed anything more. Slam! Slam! Slam! He thrust and I pumped with selfishness and raw need. Mulder yelled. He yelled my name. I shirked his as we sped up to approach mutual climax.

While in the next morning I received an earful of his angst and apology, I spent that night drunk on the fact that Mulder had fucked me with five years of denied…love.


End file.
